Considering the lack of resources otherwise, I felt it was appropriate to create a place where we can plant our prospective characters and show them for people to see.

Hopefully, this allows us a sense of who's going to be where, who's playing what, and possibly establish connections before the launch even starts! With that, I suppose it would be appropriate to post a template (that of course is only a suggestion to those who do not have a favored format already at your disposal). To keep it simple, the following will just be based on the categories on MRP:

Name:

Race:

Class:

House Name:

Title:

Nickname:

Height:

Weight/Build:

Residence:

Birthplace:

Motto:

Physical Description:

[Description Here]

Brief History:

[Backstory Here]

Art Gallery:

[A list of art pieces or screenshots if applicable*]

*If you plan on using another's art for your character description, please provide a source link so the original artist gets credit for their work.

I will be posting an example below of a filled out character sheet, and also one of my prospective mains on Turtle WoW!

Motto:"We are not exempt from either cruelty or a mind that rainbows beyond ailment."

Physical Description:

Maxwell Kingston is a man who displays some particular bearing as a scholar, middling refinements borne openly amongst rugged commonality.

He stands at a respectable height, which in turn emphasizes the burly build he boasts. His arms are surprisingly thick and his trunk is filled out impressively, though the mass he has accrued is obviously not tempered into anything resembling a fighter's tonicity. His midsection can, depending on the outfit, reveal itself to possess padding, indulgence thriving where vigilance wanes.

His face is possessed of feature which can be considered handsome, though perhaps a bit broad. His nose can be considered thick, where it bridges two bushy eyebrows that sit above eyes of forest green. He maintains a thick mustache which connects to a dense bush of chin hairs. High cheekbones and somewhat round cheeks are shaved, though can at times be subject to a scruff come of neglect. His blonde hair is kept long, though tied tight into a practical ponytail.

His attire is hardly extravagant, seemingly built for purpose rather than aesthetic, though that is not to say it is kept in any shoddy condition. He maintains an attention to fit and cut that shows well his care towards his appearance. He keeps a backpack strapped to his back, bloated with supplies. As well, he keeps several bags and pouches on his belt for easy access, a book bound with worn leather, along with a tin canteen.

Brief History:

Born within a humble household outside of the Eastvale Lumber Yard, Maxwell enjoyed an uneventful childhood which bears the rustic charm of a life lived independently, and of the land. Through his bearing to be a lumberjack, he had come to know the measures of physical labor and hardy bearing which comes to color the profession.

Though, in the end, a curiosity which had come to shine far too bright to ignore had come to manifest within him. In his teenage years, Maxwell had sought out the mysteries of the world through what books he could acquire, and the trail of reading had led him to realizing a potent talent for the arcane craft.

With some consternation, Maxwell was allowed in recent days to attempt to find what he might do with his developing talents, vigilant in both study and craft, as he set out on his own adventure.

Weight/Build: About average for a female Darkspear, she is lean but obviously not focusing herself towards any martial prowess.

Residence: Sen'jin Village

Birthplace: Straglethorn Vale, Darkspear Islands

Motto: Give dem a chance, jus' one.

Physical Description:

Ajana wears loose fitting and flowing clothing, often with simple designs woven into the thread. Looking past the fur visible on her frame one could see the definitive outlines of a toned body, though the shape would lend itself to the idea of a lithe form rather than someone who is truly athletic. Her bat-like ears are pierced on both lower lobes with an apparent piece of bone, the bone itself has several carvings etched into it depicting a myriad of Loa. Her tusks are somewhat shorter than the average for Darkspear. If one had experience interacting with Trolls it would be clear she was still rather young, perhaps just entering adulthood. She wears her deep auburn hair long and braided with obvious detritus in the form of animal bones and other trinkets interspersed. Her amber eyes gleam with curiosity as they seem to dart to take in everything around them.

Brief History:

[Backstory Here]

Art Gallery:

(WIP)

Last edited by Valjan on Thu Oct 04, 2018 11:00 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Brief History:
Revvy was born and raised in darkshore, where wildlife and creatures are more rowdy and agressive then in Teldrasil. Because of this Revelian learned at an early age to wield a sword.
During his life in Darkshore he met many travellers from all over the world. These travellers were usually waiting for the boat to the eastern kingdoms. This way he learned a lot about the world, it's dangers, it's people and the many beautiful locations it has.

In time, travellers that frequently came through started calling Revelian just Revvy since they often didn't remember his full name. His parents were not to keen on the human sounding name. This caused some turmoil in the Ysaith houshold.
Revvy already had wanderlust so after a particular volitile fight, he left to travel the world.
First up, he will travel to teldrasil to see it a last time before he travels the world...

Name: Draknar
Race: Orc
Class: Warrior
House Name: N/A
Title: The Scarred
Nickname: Drak
Height: 7'2
Weight/Build: 283 lbs
Residence: Orgrimmar
Birthplace: Gorgrond, Draenor
Motto: "Either die in battle with the enemy, or run and die by my hand."
Physical Description:
Draknar is a towering Blackrock, with a scar over his right and left eye.
Brief History:
Draknar is an aging Orc, a veteran of all three Wars. He fought with and for the Blackrocks during the first two wars, but he had left the clan shortly before the Third War ended due a dispute with Rend and his unwillingness to strike back at the Alliance while they were weakened and for his incompetence. He wandered the Eastern Kingdoms until he was able to steal a boat from Menethil Harbor and sail to Kalimdor. He had heard that the son of Durotan was building a new reformed Horde and set out to join. He grounded his ship on the shores of the newly founded Durotar. After being directed to Orgrimmar by a few scouts, Draknar was able to speak with Thrall and after some convincing, was able to join Thrall's Horde.

Class: Druid (Formerly a Highborne Mage and Master Tailor with some background in the Sisters of Elune)

House Name: House Moonwreath

Title: Talespinner

Nickname: Kai

Height: 6'8" or 2 meters

Weight/Build: 168 lbs or 76 kilograms; very thin

Residence: Nighthaven

Birthplace: Zin-Azshari

Physical Description:

Before you stands a pale, gray-skinned elf which manages to look regal, despite the tarnishings that come with travel: an occupation especially obvious from the engorged backpack, with reagents and loose scraps of paper poking out of the pouches. Though her attire is assembled from bits of whatever’s suitable for travelling, it is rather well-kept and clean for an adventurer. The backpack, one of the sole constants, seems to be made of a white cloth unfamiliar to the Eastern Kingdoms, and appears surprisingly durable for how overburdened it seems. The only other large accessory the lady appears to carry with her is a parasol. Violet and decorated with the Icon of Wisdom in gold, it is omnipresently raised whenever outdoors and during the day, else it is tied securely to the backpack with a slightly magical lock. Aside from this, the lady appears to wear two necklaces, one a choker made of uncomfortable-looking thorns, and the other a moonstone pendant with an engraving of what appears to be a wreath.

The elf’s face is pretty, perhaps beautiful in ages long past. Though deep, uncharacteristic wrinkles crease her lips and forehead, her countenance remains mostly taut. The hair is a bright teal-green, curly around the ends, and streaked with gray. Thin black-blue lips, high cheekbones, a prominent and angled jaw, and a refined, flared nose give the impression of a serious, constantly disapproving noblewoman. In conflict to this, this elven woman commonly expresses serenity and curiosity. Yet there are certain oddities in the facial structure: the eyes are exotically opalescent, and the ears seem to curve inwards.

The body retains much of the same rigid structure as the face. It seems almost weak, malnourished; the bones seem too large for the body, especially the torso. Besides the slight curve of the stomach, everything is straight and pulled almost tight to the bone -- and in cases like the ribcage and shoulders -- the bone is quite apparent. Though there is a fair amount of muscle, it is less than one would expect of a night elf. The structure of the hands appears delicate and would be perfect if not torn by terrible burn scars. Despite the backpack seeming too heavy for her light figure, she still maintains a regimented posture. One of the exotic features is what appears to be some sort of magical marking, originating from the right shoulder and arcing across the back, eventually diving down and branching out over the left foot. The style of this mark is somewhat interpretive, as it loops several time to create an uncertain pattern: observers have stated that they see gusts of winds, the boughs of a tree, a fish’s tail, an eagle in flight, a tidal wave, a whirlpool, and even a trogg. It glows with a near-black violet light, and is bright enough to be seen even through light leather equipment. Besides the mark, there appears to be an odd white speckling across the skin, somewhat difficult to notice amongst its grayish hue.

It is also obvious from the mannerisms of this lady that she appears to be visually handicapped, perhaps to the point of blindness: an explanation for the unnatural state of her eyes. She stares for long periods at objects and people, often to the point of it becoming uncomfortable. Her hands display a deftness and liveliness that implies that her sense of touch substitutes for her visual deficiency.

Brief History:

Once a proud member of the Quel’dorei, Kai’mara’s family were acclaimed tailors, servicing the constant demand of the Highborne’s gaudy fashions and luxuries, established by being among the first to perfect the creation of Mooncloth. Though the family were not typical nobles due to their former status as commoners, their great wealth and reputation afforded them substantial influence. Born the youngest of her family, she received the extensive Highborne education, and found her passion in the political wargames of Zin-Azshari. Even in adolescence, she vied for the attention of Queen Azshara to become one of her Handmaidens, often through bloodsport.

This idyllic fascination was broken during the Legion’s arrival. Their demons mercilessly slaughtered her parents. Not only this, but her livelihood was wholly ruined with the corruption of the Well of Eternity, as their production of advanced Mooncloth was now ruined. Protected by her sister, a senior Priestess of Elune, she managed to survive in Zin-Azshari against the eventual wrath of Queen and the Burning Legion. Though she managed to escape the city just before the collapse of the Well of Eternity, her sister offered that Kai’mara be saved instead of her. They did not realize the gravity of the Well’s destruction, and as a result, was the last remaining member of House Moonwreath. All of her family had either died in the war, or were presumed to have drowned beneath the tides. She was inducted into a new, unfamiliar society, and was automatically grouped with the Highborne she now blamed for everything she had lost.
Coupled with entering true adulthood, the great burdens and sorrow of her past life broke Kai’mara. She became withdrawn from society in the tranquil tundra of Winterspring, her only motivations to read of other parts of the world, to lament to Elune, and to explore the wilds in solitude. During her nightly explorations, she crossed into Moonglade, and began to study the Druids she had only heard of in legends. Her spying was caught by a student of the talon. Through his wisdom, Kai’mara began to reevaluate her life’s purpose, to manage her magical addiction, and finally find peace. Kai’mara soon developed a deep love for the young druid, and of course, married him.

She sired three girls -- the youngest, twins -- and began to reestablish her faith in Elune to honor her sister. Eventually, her husband gained seniority within the Cenarion Circle, and could not delay his journey into the Emerald Dream. Left to raise their children alone, Kai’mara devoted her time wholly to their upbringing. Though nurturing, she strictly set them on the path of becoming Sentinels. This smothering attitude consequently resulted in one of her daughters resisting, who instead secretly joined up with the remnants of the Highborne. Kai’mara did not know of her daughter’s secret until the tribunal was called to judge the Highborne into exile, and noticed her amongst the faces of the Highborne sentenced to exile.

Not long after, Kai’mara would lose another daughter to the sea, as her naval expedition to Zandalar never returned. She held her last remaining daughter close, using all she had learned and mastered over the years to ensure her prosperity. She amassed much in terms of wealth, and assisted in the rediscovery of Mooncloth, and used her influence to push her daughter into the higher ranks of the Sentinels after thousands of years. But it would not be enough, as her daughter would fall to Silithid at Southwind Village. Alone, Kai’mara grieved, and turned to the Cenarion Circle, so that she could join her husband in the Dream. Due to gender, they would not accept her, so instead she began to focus more on the Sisterhood as to become a sage to her people.

After another thousand years of malaise, Kai’mara’s husband was awakened by Malfurion to assist in the Battle for Mount Hyjal. Though she managed to evade the Burning Legion’s march, all was not well after the ash had settled. Her husband, too, had joined the rest of her loved ones.

Grimly resolved, Kai’mara asked the Cenarion Circle once again to join their ranks, to not only honor her husband, to not only be teached in the druidic ways, but to serve them however she could, for she was no longer keen to rest solely under the boughs of Nordrassil, while a great new world lay beyond the sea, while powerless to intervene, while she would have to continue to live in fear of loss. The Circle considered her words among the words of many other aspiring female druids, and their leadership finally agreed.

Recalling the ancient arts of arcane spellcasting and the few druidic teachings shown to her by her deceased husband, Kai’mara was shown to be an exceptionally promising druid, especially when also keeping up with the task of researching the literature and history of the new races. However, the Circle remained suspicious of her heritage. Though she obeyed the ancient laws of the elves for thousands of years, she was one of the few remaining Highborne that were not exiled. To prove herself worthy of joining the Cenarion Circle, she was given a task to go to the Eastern Kingdoms and chronicle her experiences with the new allies of the Kaldorei, and to restrict herself in both power and social superiority - the decadent sins of the Highborne. Should she succeed in this quest, she would be welcomed into the Cenarion Circle proper.

Physical Description:
Fendor is a bulky dwarf. He's completely bald because of a misadventure with fire occurred in his young age. To compensate this, he possesses a really long orange beard, which is his pride. He doesn't care that much of his physical aspect, so you can see the bread growing a bit wildly, not tended at all.

His legs are really untrained since most of his life was spent inside the wall of the secure and quiet Anvilmar, with not much to talk about.

He has big hands, that gave him the upper hand in all the arm wrestling matches he ever did!

His eyes are green like his father's.

Brief History:

Born in Anvilmar, where he passed the whole of his life, from Raviel Coldmane and his wife Belindra Saltstone. The mother died while he was still young, and his father quickly became schizophrenic for the shock.

After that, all his life has been concentrated on tending him since he would have never been able to look after himself. Day after day he witnessed his father worsening, culminated on a fire Raviel accidentally set up and where both of them risked death. Fendor will always bring memories of that terrible moment since it was the only time he really faced death. He is still bald from that day.

During this sad period of his life, his only friend was a white bear he named Sjarn. He meet the animal for the first time when he was just 27. Usually, he never got near this kind of animals: everybody warned him that bears could be really dangerous. But it was the first white one he had ever seen and he couldn't do anything but approach it. Strangely, the bear didn't react negatively: instead, it seemed to be happy to be cuddled.

From that day one, when Fendor was sad, he simply went out near Coldridge Pass, where probably Sjarn lived, and in a matter of minutes, the white bear would appear.

One year ago Raviel passed away, at the age of 161 years old, consumed by his sickness. Fendor risked consuming itself also in the mourning since he always thought he could have done more for his father.

Nearly broke after consuming the little wealth he inherited from his parents, one morning something snapped on his mind: he wanted to start exploring the world. He thought his upcoming depression was probably due to the fact that he lived all his 45 years of his life in the same place.

So he planned out to become a traveling salesman, to kill two bird with one stone: he would have earned some money while exploring the world!

The preparations for his adventure were hasty since he didn't possess much to bring along. As soon as he traveled past Coldridge Pass directed to Kharanos, he heard some noises: Sjarn followed him through the cave! He, of course, decided to bring him along, since having a good pair of extra claws will be surely handy.

He already started to keep a bestiary, where he will note down all the different species he will encounter. Of course, at the moment, he only listed the one resident in Coldridge Valley: boars, wolves, troggs and trolls. But he already encountered some strange animal after exiting Coldridge Pass...

Fendor is at the moment resting at the Thunderbrew Distillery... the adventure just began!

Name: Ingria Leafholder
Race: Tauren
Class: Warrior
House Name: Clan Leafholder
Title: /
Nickname: The Patient
Height: 7'2
Weight/Build: Swol
Residence: Crossroads
Birthplace: Mulgore
Motto: "Given time, water can ware away the rock"
Physical Description: An old burly Shu'Halo. She has seen many battles and her face reflects this. Much of it dis-formed by scars and burns. However despite her facial appearance she is still very much battle ready. She stands as a mountain of muscle and determination."

Brief History: Since a young calf she has trained under great braves of Bloodhoof and Thunderbluff. She has fought every foe the Shu'halo has seen from the Centaur, gnolls, and even a few over confident elves. Since she grew into an adult she has been defending the Crossroads from any foes that threaten the small town while continuing her training independently

Last edited by Wanabee on Thu Oct 04, 2018 7:19 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Gropy is a young fit and capable woman, with no scars or anything as she has yet to test herself

Brief History:

Gropy is the daugther of a smith and a house wife living in the slums of Stormwind, in her youth she dreamed of finding out what's beyound the gate of Stormwind, so her dad smelted a weapon and a suit of armor for her. Outside she found a dusty farmland, vast red mountains and a gloomy forest, but what interested her most was way south, a huge jungle with giant trees and giant animals.

Going futher in the jungle she came upon a cave, inside she could hear sounds of trading, sounds of fighting, and it all intrigued her. As she entered the cave a small green fellow greeted her "What'd you want?" staring with newfound fascination; the goblin followed with a "Time is money" and continued down the cave.

She spend years in Booty Bay, working and learning with some of the best (And also the shadiest) goblins; which made her decide to make a company with the goal of gaining riches to herself. Inspired by Venture Co, but with less legal binding, the company would be made to explore, delve and raid the darkest, deepest and scariest dungeons and castle. Either hired by other groups, factions, or for their own personal gain.

Physical Description:
Leoffret Coinshadow stands tall and lean. Although still young by Troll years his body is marked with numerous thin scars (especiall along his arms and hands) which are custom to his "skulking" trade in the rough jungle.

He keeps his hair dyed black with a dark pigment found within Stranglethorn (it also serves as a great gel to tame any jungle frizz). The dark fruity pigment also masks his eyes to reduce glare and keep his teal green face hidden in gloomy places.

Tying his hair back and keeping his tusks short allows his frame to btter slide into almost any nook and cranny. The middle section of his right ear is slightly frayed due to a piercing accident.

Brief History:
Leoffret spent the majority of his youth skulking about the many abandoned tribal ruins in Stranglethorn Vale. More often than not he would find and collect a variety of trinkets and decayed artifacts as a hobby to sate curiosity. One days while loitering on the outskirts of Booty Bay a goblin showed particular interest in one of the items he was examining. Although worthless to him and his village, the goblin payed good silver for the rusted exotic idol in Leoffret's hands. Not much time passed before his curious collection had run dry, but the bag of silvers resting on his straw hammock stirred a new, more profitable curiosity.

Unfortunately word got out to the elders about his small fortune and Leoffret reluctantly donated it to aid in the village's much needed repairs and hunting stores. His accomplishment, however, would not go forgotten. Finally coming of age a few months after, his thrift and skulking skills had earned him the title of "Coinshadow" within the small village. Although honored to receive such a humble gift, it wasn't long before he left to ensure any future wealth remained his.

Putting his skulking to good use Leoffret enlisted to the expanding Horde as a contracted agent of the Shattered Hand. The world of Azeroth now open, a deeper curiosity stirs him to discover (and more importantly procure) valuable secrets for both the Horde...and himself.

Appearance

Last edited by Reidforspeed on Sun Jan 05, 2020 11:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Of averege height and build, having to pay his rent in the Pig and Whistle through labor, he is given regular meals which keep him in a normal physical state. Parcival's brown, long, unkempt hair reach to his shoulders with a thick beard to round his face. Thick eyebrows and sunken eyes rend his sight unpleasant, only adding to his moody demeanour. His thick nose hinders his breathing, giving Parcival his characteristically fast and loud inhaling partly through the mouth. Some gray hair appear to dominate his face, especially his lower beard and at the sides.

Parcival wears whatever he can get his hands upon, involuntarily. His only characteristic choice of clothing is his blue linen cloak, which he wears whenever leaving his room in the tavern. With the hood drawn, at any time of day and season.

Brief History:

A former student of the arts of magic, with a propensity towards moodiness, anxiety and arrogance. Having abandoned his studies with the approaching plague from the north, Parcival fled to the safey of Stormwind, where he remains to this day. Forced to learn for himself, this puts a strain on his financial status, living in poverty in the Old Town district of the city. A small cabin of a room in the Pig and Whistle.

Due to his failures in the academic world and his life in poverty, Parcival built a sickness of spirit, which spawns obsessions with murder. Delusional, yet capable of generosity and compassion. Parcival tends to pity the weak and helpless in whom he sees himself, despising all others with a semblance of power.

Physical Description:
Kuuku is a young Forest Troll who looks rather small and lean compared to his brutish brethren. His skin is covered with a thin layer of moss in various shades of green. There are several pearls, bones and feathers braided into his teal colored mop of fuzzy hair. His nose is a bit crooked and he seems to scan his surroundings with a curious yet piercing stare. His tusks are adorned with intricate carvings.

Brief History:
Kuuku grew up to be a Hunter and Fisherman in Revantusk Village. Apart from the occasional struggles with the Wildhammer Dwarfs and the Vilebranch Trolls of Jintha'alor the Revantusk Tribe seems to manage a peaceful life in the Hinterlands.
Since the Revantusk Tribe lives rather secluded and far away from their Horde allies it has become custom that young tribe members are sent on a journey to Orgrimmar as a rite of passage. They are supposed to gather news about their allies, foes and latest devolopments in the conflict between Horde and Alliance. In addition they are supposed to pledge allegiance to Thrall and assure that the Revantusk will come to aid when he calls. The elders of the tribe are known for their diplomatic skills and they want to assure that the younger generation is able to succeed.

Kuuku has recently arrived in Sen'jin and heard about the Valley of Trials. He intends to take part in the trials and wants to prove that the Revantusk tribe - although they might be few - are able to pull their weight.

The woman that you see, is short barely five foot one, she moves with agility and grace that her small frame allows. She is small and compact, she is toned and physically fit, a body of an acrobat, or hand to hand combat fighter. That or a runaway.
Her facial features seem to be sharp, angled, hawkish. A slim nose set between high cheekbones. Her lips full but rarely forming a smile. A small scar on the left side of her chin. Across her nose and under her eyes, a smattering of freckles.

Bright blue grey eyes watches those around her with an intense almost critical gaze. Yet there is a fear within them, a panicked look that can be seen when she believes no one is watching her. A doe caught in the headlights of a mechano-hog.

Orange sunset locks, capturing the light in vibrant ruby hues; flowing in gentle, warm curls of lava to her mid-back. The mass of red hangs down the female's shoulders and back. Every strand seemed to be a different shade of copper, causing her hair to look like liquid fire. The waves and curls flow freely around her shoulders, reaching nearly the middle of her back. The vast mass is unruly and nearly untameable. Pushed back from her face with head scarf's, or pulled back into a long braid.

Her clothing is simple, made from what can be afforded, found or stolen. Favouring long cloaks that wrap around her petite frame and long shirts and tunics that cover her forearms. She is a mismatched set of colours and fabrics that give nothing away of her skill set. She carries a short sword, various small knives and brass knuckles.

Perhaps her most treasured possession a silver anchor tarnished by age. Held around her neck with a leather thong. Often when unsure, she can be found holding the item. Squeezing it hard enough to leave the imprint upon her palm.

Carried with her, a backpack that seems to carry her very world. Items including but not limited too a worn bedroll, a few well thumbed books, very basic food stuffs, a water canteen that has more dents than smooth surface.

Brief History:

A runaway, wanted by tidemother only knows what. One soul thing seems to give this young woman the iron will to survive. Get back home.

That's it. A quick witted redhead with a silver tongue, it is hard to know what is truth and what is fable from the words that spill from the woman's lips.

A history lost to the depths of the sea, a woman lost on a path that she hopes is leading her home.

Art Gallery:

Last edited by Hiccup on Sat Oct 06, 2018 2:55 pm, edited 1 time in total.

➵APPEARANCE: Tall for a woman but short for her race, Arlakh possesses a stocky build with wide shoulders and few curves – though it’s hard to tell beneath all the layers of cloth and fur. She has guileless blue eyes and a tendency to smile in spite of herself. A traditional hairstyle has the sides of her head shaved clean with a thick braid falling down her back, adorned with silver bands, bits of animal bone, and pretty wildflowers.

No orc should be without battle-scars, but Arlakh’s are few in number, her skin smooth save for a few faded, shallow wolf bites on her ankles and a deeper cut bisecting her left eyebrow. Usually a testament to youth, or worse, inexperience, she makes up for this with an air of gruffness, a gravelly voice well-suited to barking orders at dogs in a firm, commanding tone, and a lack of eloquence.

➵BRIEF HISTORY: A daughter of the Frostwolf Clan, Arlakh spent her adolescence isolated in the Alterac Mountains, hunting in the snow and hiding from the Alliance presence in neighboring territories. Once a proud warrior, her aging father had retired to rear wolves and worgs for the outriders to use as mounts, and this profession was to become hers once she came of age.

In later years, she saved the runt of an otherwise promising litter of war wolves. While she had no intentions beyond than helping it survive away from it’s mother, it seems inevitable looking back that she would bond with it. The wolf has been a faithful hunting companion ever since.

While most of her clan remained in the Eastern Kingdoms after freeing the other orcs from their internment camps - an event that she took part in, albeit on the fringes, as her first taste of ‘real’ combat - Arlakh followed the new Horde to Kalimdor. The last few years have been spent as a scout (and then as the leader of small scouting parties) in the Barrens and Stonetalon Mountains, combatting the threats in these areas that are ‘closer-to-home’ rather than the result of Alliance excursions.

Recently, she set out to organise a band of adventurers that is better suited to clearing the way for the Horde than a group of regular grunts would be.